


Truth

by CateAdams



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Pon Farr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2752334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CateAdams/pseuds/CateAdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Spock come to an inevitable confrontation in the wake of pon farr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth

     It had come to this again, and Jim was beyond frustrated and more than a little scared, pacing back and forth within the confines of his first officer’s cabin, the object of his worry standing stiffly in front of him.

     “Look, I know it’s only been two days, but McCoy insists that you’re not getting any better and I’m inclined to agree with him.  Now, I told him I’d come and ask you directly, this time, instead of…well, instead of what happened before.”  He gestured broadly, encompassing things that were still too raw, even for him.

     “I am functional, sir.”

     “You’re always ‘functional’, even when you’re about to die.” Jim winced at the edge in his own voice, and then stopped in front of the Vulcan, his hands now open and pleading.  “I’m your friend.  You named me as such down on your…on that planet.  As your friend, I need to know…I want to know what’s wrong.  Beyond functionality.”

     Spock studied him, the barest movement of his lips enough to demonstrate his continued stubbornness.  Jim’s jaw tensed.  “What happened to you after Bones and I beamed up? I know you’ve given us the short version, but I’d like to know the details.”

     Spock’s chin lifted.  “The mental link had broken, and the fever, and I was able to discuss the situation with T’Pring in order to elucidate her purpose and intentions.  Her arguments were logical.”

    “Logic said you needed to die.”

     “Or allow her freedom.  The latter sufficed.”

     Jim guffawed rudely.  “How convenient.”  He furrowed his brow.  “Did you know that could’ve happened? The challenge?”

     “I did, however _kal-i-fee_ had not been invoked for centuries.  She was within her rights.”

     The captain grumbled, “That’s what T’Pau kept saying. To hell with that, though. What about your right to life? What about mine? Just so she… .”

     “So that she could remove a potential bondmate for whom she had experienced only contempt, were she to admit to such a thing.  She believed that it was her life she was saving.”

     “That’s bullshit.”

     “It is not.  We were linked. While I was able to shield, those particular thoughts proved most…persistent.”

     Jim glowered, and a sick feeling began to grow in his stomach as he considered his friend’s words.  “She didn’t know anything about you.” 

     “She knew my mind, in this way, from the age of seven.  Do you understand, Jim?”

     And suddenly, his blood running cold, Jim did understand. He understood that his friend had that day faced the wrenching realization that someone who had known him almost his entire life, who had touched his mind, who, it could be argued, was intimately aware of his being, had coldly rejected him.  More, had shown such callous regard for him as to force him to face a painful death, or kill his friend with his own hands. Spock, who dwelt forever in the shadows of two worlds, forever seeking acceptance, had been harshly instructed of his perceived worth by the one who should have protected him.

     “That…bitch.” Jim’s voice was low, his anger roiling inside him, and he saw his friend flinch.  “She really wanted you to die, didn’t she?”

     “I believe she saw it as the only logical solution.”

     “But you didn’t, even after you released her; even with no one else for you.”

     Uncertainty flashed through dark eyes.  “The combat…the…the…seeing you die was… . As I said, the bond was severed at that point.  And I chose to feel nothing, for there was nothing left.”

     “Is it truly past, Spock?  The fever?”

     “The fever has broken.  The…physical…urges have ceased.”

     “But it’s not over.”

     “It is shameful for me to admit… .” Spock’s voice trailed off.

     “Admit what?”  Jim pressed. “You’re still in pain, I can see it. What it is you need, Spock?”

     But the Vulcan’s expression blanked and his eyes shifted away.  “I will endure it. This will not end my life.”

     “Dammit!” Jim exploded, slamming his hand on the Vulcan’s desk.  “Enough of the sanctimonious martyrdom, enough of this…pulling away into silence and distance when I want to help you. I’m not her.  I’m not _them_!” He waved his hand.  “I think I’ve earned your truth, Spock.  I’m your friend, for fuck’s sake.  I… .”  He paused, his mouth twisting, his hands clenched.  “I love you.  Did you know that?  That you were loved?  And by someone who knows you as deeply or deeper than she ever did?  You can’t tell me I don’t, after what we’ve been through. I need you, Spock.”

     Jim was met by determined silence and he stepped forward, narrowing his eyes.  “Tell me what you need.”

     “No.”

     “Tell me or I’ll just guess and you’ll still have to hear it spoken. And I have a pretty good idea what it is.”

     “No.” Spock’s voice broke.

     The air was taut, as taut as Jim’s nerves, his muscles, and he felt his blunt fingernails digging into his palms in frustration. Spock still wouldn’t look at him, and the captain bit the inside of his cheek, forcibly relaxing himself, taking one and then another deep breath, letting his stance shift, his voice soften into a caress.  “Spock, please.”

     The Vulcan flinched again, this time at the gentle tone, and Jim knew immediately that the stalemate was over, feeling a twinge of guilt for using a cheap trick on his emotionally vulnerable friend.  But this was important, and no good would come from dragging it out and simply causing each of them additional pain.

     “Let me touch you.”  Jim cautiously moved even closer, lifting a hand.

     Spock shook his head, tremors moving visibly across his body.  “You do not understand _this_.”

     Jim didn’t allow his hand to make contact, not yet, and he kept his voice pitched quietly.  “Let me tell you what I understand.  You had your controls taken from you piece by piece, your body weakened and your mind weakened and you had to face your own death because of bureaucratic nonsense.  And then you landed on that planet as a stranger and had to fight your best friend and thought you watched him die at your own hands.  You had a link in your mind for thirty years just…ripped away in one of the vilest and coldest ways possible and I’m guessing, Mr. Spock, that if McCoy’s little wonder drug hadn’t worked you wouldn’t have lasted two hours before Vulcan discipline finally acted to put an end to it all.”

     Spock swallowed, his eyes still averted.

     “And I’m also guessing that even though you don’t feel _physical_ urges, right now, your emotional need has only increased.  Parted and never parted? Never and always touching and touched? You can’t simply take that away and be done with it.  I’m offering… .”

     Dark eyes focused on his with startling intensity.  “What are you offering, Jim? What do you know of this? You would consent to bind my mind to yours, never to be parted?  You would acknowledge that there is a physical need that must eventually be satisfied?”

     “I would.”  Jim lifted his chin. “I do.”

     “You know nothing of this closeness, and, it turns out, neither do I.” Jim’s breath caught at the forlorn tone in his friend’s voice, seeing the half-Vulcan’s shoulders slump as he looked away again.

     “I never took you for a coward, Spock.”

     “Jim… .”

     “You won’t do it because you’re afraid.  You’re afraid of what I’ll do when I see your mind, when I see _you_.  You think I’ll give you up, just like she did.”

     “Vulcans do not… .”

     “But you’re not Vulcan.”  Jim saw Spock’s head lift, saw already tight lips press together dangerously, and the captain pushed on, quickly.  “You’re half-human.  Spock, it’s not a bad thing; it’s probably why you’re still alive after what happened.”

     “It is not…who I am.”

     “It _is_ who you are. And you can’t tell me that it’s not worth it, and I don’t care how many years of Vulcan bullshit I hear behind your words.  The…two parts of you, how they work together, how _you_ work: your compassion and your strength and your loyalty, your capacity for logic and insight.  I’m going to say it again, Spock: I love you.  You think I’ve ever said that to anyone else?”

     “I do not…I believe you would act now in order to preserve my life, but I repeat that my life is in no danger.”

     “You’re a stubborn bastard.  And maybe it’s a Vulcan thing, to believe you’re still alive as long as your heart is beating, no matter the damage to your soul.  But for humans…for me, I can’t stand to see you hurt like this. Not when there’s a solution. Let me touch you.”

     “Jim… .”

     “ _Let me help_.” Jim used the same words Spock had spoken when he was strapped to that biobed, the Denevan parasite ravaging his nervous system.  “You would do anything for me.  Let me… ,” he held out his hands, “let me do this, for you.”

     Spock turned his head, and their eyes met, and Jim saw enough there to slowly reach forward, gently clasping his friend’s shoulders.  Spock let out a small huff of air, and Jim smiled slightly, letting his hands slide down and then back up, trying to comfort. He watched as the Vulcan’s own fingers rose and almost absently brushed against Jim’s chest, against the side of his neck where the _ahn’wun_ had tightened, and the captain repressed a shiver.

     “I hurt you.  I beg forgiveness.”

     “No. I saw you beg, before. For me, with T’Pau. When you were out of your mind with fever, you still tried to save me.”

     Now, warm fingers traced Jim’s jawline.  “I remember nothing after that. Not until I felt the bond break and I saw your body.”

     “I wasn’t dead.  If you’d touched me… .”

     “If I had touched you, I would have… .”  Spock’s hand dropped and he bit his lip, a faint greenish flush staining his cheeks.

     Jim sniffed, his smile returning, loosening one hand to grasp his friend’s, bringing it up towards his mouth and letting his breath warm it.  “You would have _what_ , Mr. Spock?”

     An eyebrow lifted.  “I believe you understand as much, James. And you are attempting to incite a similar reaction now.”

     “I don’t always play fair.”  Jim’s lips brushed Vulcan skin, and he let his tongue slide just briefly over his first officer’s knuckles, watching Spock’s eyes widen and his breathing quicken. “You feeling any sudden return of those physical urges, my friend?”

     Spock’s mouth opened and closed.  “If this is done, it cannot be undone. I would be your bonded mate.”

     “Bondmates.” Jim tilted his head slightly.  “That feels right.”  He was aware of Spock’s other hand rising to ghost over his meld points, feeling a warm tingle where their skin touched, accompanied by a flare of arousal.

     “My mind to your mind.  My thoughts to yours.”

     _About damn time… ._

     _T’hy’la… ._

 

 

 

THE END

 

 

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, and I make no money from this.

           

Author’s Note:  Inspiration for this came from the amazing tumblr feed of [plaidshirtjimkirk](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.tumblr.com/).  Though ST:ID got me to begin writing, TOS has been and always shall be, if you know what I mean, and this is my first attempt at capturing Jim and Spock from the original universe.  I hope I did them justice.  -Cate

 

 

         


End file.
